Here Anonymous

Dangerbird; 2009

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Eulogies' self-titled 2007 debut used that dour word as a self-fulfilling prophecy, allowing the band to muse and mope about terminated relationships. The band's follow-up, Here Anonymous-- again with the predictive title-- takes more or less the same approach, with a set of 12 songs that stick safely in the pocket of soft-spoken, dude-driven American indie pop. Take "Day to Day", which kicks Anonymous off appropriately, and cautiously: "I left home, and I went out on my own." Man, if Peter Walker's songwriting turns out to be a serial, we'll have to wait until 2013 for the Toothpaste in Her Medicine Cabinet EP. For now, however, we've got another album that leans toward the ruminative end of the emotional spectrum, but one also packed with punchy moments and crisp songwriting. And who's that? A lady?

Yup, on "Two Can Play", Walker gets up the nerve to talk to a girl, so to speak. He and Silversun Pickups' Nikki Monninger-- whose little-girlish voice is the perfect complement to Walker's cardigan-soft timbre, if you like very, very delicate things-- finish each others' sentences. When they harmonize on the chorus, they agree on the best way to resolve, not dissolve, a relationship, getting in a little jab at the same time: "I implore you, talk to me now/ 'Cause you're wrong to hide it." It's a unique song for Eulogies because there's a girl on it, but it's more singular because it directly poses an answer to a problem, without equivocating.

Anonymous has plenty of moments with a pedagogical bent, but Walker's main pupil, as on the band's debut, is himself. The music sounds most energetic, unsurprisingly, when Walker's trying to convince himself, or us, or a woman, that he's going to be okay, or "find my feet and walk away from here," as he promises in "Bad Connection". "Eyes on the Prize" rocks out to the extent that Eulogies will allow-- on Spinal Tap's amp, they'd register about a 4-- and along with "Day to Day", the album opens on an optimistic note, if not one with the familiar scent of a series of TMI Facebook status updates. You get the feeling that if he'd just stick to his guns and not water down his sentiments, he'd start getting somewhere: "I just wanna see your eyes," he pleads on "Out of Character", which befits the song's vaguely Interpol-esque vibe. Then, a passive apology: "Sorry that we let it slip away." Active voice!

On most of Anonymous, he just sounds exhausted and unwilling to follow his own advice, if that's what it is. Despite its initially jaunty guitar tone and optimistic title, "This Fine Progression" is cloaked in self-loathing, Walker knowing in advance how he's going to respond to a recurrent situation, and realizing that he's helpless to stop it all the same. Even "How to Be Alone", a manual that, if it exists, I think a few of those reading this review would like to flip through from time to time, culminates with Walker admitting (within the album's best hook, it should be noted) that, well, he'd like to read it, too. If you have it to borrow.

While I was probably expecting more from Anonymous than I got from it, I'm not disappointed. And while Eulogies seem to have the capacity to do more than the limited playbook they've shown thus far, it's also true that advising the band to strike out in one direction or the other, musically or texturally-- listen to "Progression", then listen to Grizzly Bear's "Two Weeks", for one example of a similar aura done more effectively-- would be recommending they abandon just what makes them unique. They showed up, sure, but they'd rather you not come over and say hello, if that's okay.